Sorcerers' Apprentice  The story continues
by Cyrano's Ghost
Summary: A fast paced and exiting tale of magic and mystery. My attempt at wit. Warning: Slash. Further warning: May contain nuts.  Pairings: Balthazar/Veronica, Eventual Dave/Drake, very possibly one sided.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer - The world is owned by Disney. **

**Chapter one - The Eagle Has Landed.**

The eagle didn't make it to Paris. In fact, the eagle made it as far as down town when a number of factors (a light rain, the absence of on board bathrooms and navigational failure among them) forced Dave to attempt an experimental landing.

All things considered, it could have been worse. The main problem with that particular mode of transportation was, where do you park a giant metallic bird? But where there's a will there's a parking space, and half an hour later Dave and Becky found themselves sipping sub standard victory coffees in a little restaurant somewhere south of 14th street.

- Maybe I should have stayed. You know, just to make sure they were fine, an' all.

Said Dave, gazing in to the depths of his cup. Becky saw that his mind was drifting again, and decided to try a new approach to reassuring her new boyfriend.

- Snap out of it! I'm sure they're just fine. I mean, you said it your self, he's got Veronica now, so maybe, I don't know… they might want some time alone too?

The young sorcerer looked up and tried for a smile. Becky was right. Besides, he'd be back tomorrow, and he was absolutely certain that despite their victory over the forces of evil tonight, Balthazar would be in his lab turned training room tomorrow morning blasting him with plasma bolts. Status quo. Wasn't gonna change just because he was (and here is the awesome part) the most powerful sorcerer ever!

Ok, so maybe that was only a technicality, but Dave figured he could bask for one night.

- You're right. Yes. You're absolutely right, so they're alone, and er. We're alone. Do you wanna… I dunno

Dave babbled nervously, fiddling with his hair to still the frantic motion of his hands. Becky would have improvised an ending to that thought and gotten up to leave, had the speaker been anyone other than the enormous geek that was her boyfriend. (she still couldn't get used to that thought). Instead she raised a blonde eyebrow in silent question as to where that comment was leading, and watched him turn red and stutter through a suggestion that they get some dinner.

It sounded like a plan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two - In The Closet**

Drake Stone tried again to focus his eyes. The first attempt at such had led him to pass right out again ten minutes ago, but this time he was feeling a little less like his head had already exploded and angry midgets were dancing in the mess. Only a little.

- ok. Ok. There went another manicure. Some one is going to _pay._

This thought was followed by some other in a similar vein of revenge and Advil and the possibility of getting both, as he climbed to his feet.

Evidently he had fallen out of his (stylish and impressive) office chair after his master, Horvath had cast that spell on him. It must have gone wrong some how, what was it again? Drake fussed with his hair (the immaculate spikes were somewhat worse for wear, couldn't Horvath have moved him to the sofa or something, the bastard…) and that's when he realised what was wrong.

He checked again, just to be sure.

His ring was still gone.

This should have been the worst surprise of the day for Drake, but as fate would have it a brief yet frantic search revealed not only that his ring was probably gone for good, but also a dead child in a utility closet. The little witch.

By this time his hands were trembling in fear (though he pretended valiantly it was anger causing him to shake) and had there been anything in his stomach he was sure it would be decorating the floor by now. It took only a second of reflection to divine where his ring could have gone. It must be in the possession of his master, and what an idiot he felt like for trusting the man. He should go out and look for him. He should at least call his lawyer. He should do anything but continue to stand there with one hand over his face staring at the dead girl through his fingers. But for the longest time he simply couldn't move, and even when he found the will to do so it was only to shut the closet door again and slide down it gently to sit on his (pushily carpeted) office floor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three - Little Magic Coffin**

Veronica watched, bemused, as Balthazar depressed a small protrusion on the wall they were facing and then just stood there as if waiting for it to do something.

- Ding!

She took a small half step back. The wall had indeed done something. The strange noise heralded a sort of door, that slid out of sight revealing a small square space just beyond.

The strangeness of all the events of the past few hours was about to exceed her ability to cope. She felt it, like a fog rising to envelop her senses, and took another step away cluing Balthazar in on the fact that something was wrong.

He half turned, beckoning to her, and saying her name again softly when she failed to move.

- Veronica, it's alright. It's an elevator. It's safe love I promise.

And she trusted him of course, he was her dearest friend. Her lover. Her brave champion that had saved her life at the cost of his own. (well, near enough for horse shoes) but despite this, she could not make herself get in the little magic coffin with him!

Veronica felt her reason slip further away.

The sliding door made another sound and started to drift back out of the wall, threatening to separate her from the man within and she gasped in fright. Balthazar put a hand out to stop the door and was at her side once more, and she saw a look of comprehension cross his face, followed by a wince of pain.

- Forgive me, I cannot. I…

She tried to gasp for more air, or at least stand on her own two feet, it was not fair of her to faint like some silly girl and make the injured and exhausted man carry her, but her sight was dimming, and all she was able to do was grasp his coat tightly as he wrapped his arms around her. "hold on, just hold on, and don't let go" but it was no longer a choice. With a quiet sigh Veronica lost the battle with unconsciousness.

- Sir? Is everything alright?

The hotel receptionist was understandably concerned. The man (Mr Blake, memory served) had been renting a room at the Fairview for almost two weeks now, and in spite of his rather unusual dress sense was a model guest. (he didn't, for example, call for room service in the middle of the night, or roam the halls naked to freak out the maids).

Tonight, he had turned up later than usual, with equally eccentrically dressed company (though the beautiful woman with him seemed to be going for the medieval look rather than the lone ranger on the frontier look) Both had clearly been rather drunk, staggering and leaning on each other for support as they stumbled past the reception, but now, it seemed that Mr. Blake's date had actually passed out on him.

Tracy (according to the nametag) fought to keep a straight face. "there go his plans for the night!" as she approached them to see if she could be of help.

Getting no response to her initial conversational foray she laid a gentle hand on the mans shoulder as he continued to support his dates' weight and call her name softly.

Mistake.

The light touch prompted him to turn toward her, and the look of cornered animal exhaustion and weariness he appraised her with made one thing clear.

"he is not drunk"

Tracy opened and closed her mouth a few times, and then, just as the tableau was becoming ridiculous, the man blinked and his expression changed to the somewhat unhinged but friendly one she was used to.

- Everything is fine.

He said at length, adding "thank you Tracy" as an after thought.

Trying to slow her racing heart Tracy turned to flee discreetly away from the lunacy, but a request for aid stopped her in her tracks.

Whatever that look had been before, it frightened her enough that she had half a mind to just keep walking when the man asked her to push the button for the elevator again. Not looking at anything at all and acting normal seemed to be her best option.

It worked. He did nothing more exciting than pick up the woman bridal style, step inside the carriage and allow the doors to slide shut.

As luck would have it, ten minutes later Tracy the receptionist had convinced herself that the danger had been imagined, and Mr Blake was even now regretting the overabundance of mulled wine at renaissance fairs.

Mr Blake was not.

He was, in fact, trying to stay on his feet long enough to get Veronica to the bed. This was proving to be a challenge, being that he himself was about ready to drop dead. Again.

Actually, he thought to himself, he was doing surprisingly well for someone that had in fact _been_ dead not an hour ago.

Finally accomplishing his goal through sheer force of will he knelt by the side of the king sized bed and pressed two fingers against his loves' pale neck; counted her shallow breaths for a minute. The sorcerer was trying to reassure himself of her well being in the only way available to him at present. He knew that to cast one more spell, even a simple healing cantrip right now would sap what remained of his strength, and he needed to remain conscious for a while longer.

In Balthazar's mind, to close his eyes was to forfeit the chance to see his long lost love, perhaps forever this time. Miracles did happen. But to hope for the same miracle to happen twice was foolish. Hadn't he sworn to do anything, anything at all in the world for just one more chance to see her, if only for a moment?

The years of lonely searching and fighting had made a cynic of Balthazar long ago, but his tired brain fixated on the fact that his wish had been granted, and he simply could not grasp the fact that maybe everything had worked out in the best possible way, against all odds.

The master sorcerer was still riding an adrenaline high, in full panic mode. (he was just too drained to literally bounce off the walls right now). He tried to clear his mind. To stay calm. And upright.

Morgana was defeated. He had made sure of that before the left the field of battle. Horvath was gone, along with his crony, but that wasn't even a blip on his awareness right now. He was alive. His apprentice, who could cast without a ring and was there fore truly the Prime Merlinian was also fine, and joyriding on his eagle with Becky.

And Veronica. Veronica was not in the Grimhold, but _here_, on his bed, breathing softly in sleep. As far as he could tell, she was physically ok. He checked her pulse again.

- Get a grip.

He reproached himself aloud. Climbing shakily to his feet again he drew the quilt up over Veronica's sleeping form and then shrugged out of his coat.

Never for a second taking his eyes off the bed he made his way around to the other side and lay down beside her.

"please. Please be alright. Let her be alright." he didn't know whom he was prying to exactly, and he was desperate enough that it didn't matter.

Balthazar had not expected to ever see Veronica again. Not really. He knew in theory how the Grimhold prison worked, of course, but Morgana had been the most powerful sorceress there ever was. More powerful than Merlin himself. Heartless. What must it have been like to spend half an eternity with _that_? Their prison was supposed to suspend all life, all thought, but it was equally possible that his love had spent a thousand years being tortured by a psychopath.

In light of this, his hope was a frail abused thing all this time, and would not have by any means stretched to even imagine that the woman he loved would, upon her release recognise his face, speak his name. Yet here she was.

After Dave and Becky left, Balthazar found himself at a complete loss. He was grinning like a fool, perfectly happy for those first few minutes to just stand there holding his love in his arms again.

They sat down on the concrete steps by the fountain, and held hands like teenagers for a few minutes, and would have remained longer if Veronica hadn't suddenly jumped in fright and turned her panicked gaze on him. It was the approaching police sirens that alarmed her, and prompted them both in to action. Balthazar bid her to stay where she was while he quickly but thoroughly checked that Morgana was indeed gone. Then they set off at as good a pace as they could manage away from the noise of the sirens down a dark side street. The power was still out.

At first Veronica happily followed his lead, balking only when they reached the main street, and Balthazar had to explain the concept of a horseless carriage. The lights came back on. He smiled as he imagined getting to show her all the marvels of the modern world.

He noticed the trembling of course, asked if she was ok.

She was smiling too. Electric lights in store fronts illuminated the expression of amazement on her beautiful face, but both their elation was just a thin veneer for the shock. Was it any wonder that hers had cracked first?

He should have used the stairs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four - What Drake did when he hit rock bottom. (Or: Dig.)**

Drake stumbled over to a (genuine antique) tapestry on a wall and, grabbing the bottom edge, yanked the thing as hard as he could. It wasn't attached as firmly as he'd anticipated. (That, or he was stronger than he thought.) What followed was perhaps, a fortunate accident because it meant that when Bob and a bevy of personal stylists burst through the door he was struggling on the floor with a tapestry instead of a corpse.

Everyone froze. Drakes' fuzzy mind detected a flaw in his half-baked plan.

- Everyone, OUT!

The spectators scrambled.

- No, _out _out, I mean leave, the house, take everyone with you, right now, go go yes you too Bob,

Run on sentence style as he untangled himself and regained his feet. (It was easier to order minions around having attained the vertical.)

In a fit of paranoia he then ran through the entirety of his enormous property to make sure he was alone. He was. "Yes brilliant. No amount of therapy is ever going to help with my abandonment issues now!" (He chose to ignore that hysterical thought for now. It hurt.)

Having sat on the floor in front of the utility cupboard with the dead body inside it until his legs cramped gave him plenty of time to think.

Three things had become clear. Foremost of these was the need to dispose of any incriminating evidence. Calling his lawyer was out. He wasn't able to think of a single plausible explanation. No, it looked like he was on his own. ("Again.") The second - get his ring back from Horvath. But it was the third thing that was currently worrying him the most. Something was wrong with him beyond just the inability to cast. Most of the time he didn't even _wear _his ring, after all. "so why does it feel like a part of me is missing?" His vision still swam, he felt weak and dizzy. Everything _hurt. _The pain was more than just physical. At any rate, it could be ignored he decided. Back to thing one.

A moments' reflection hinted that his first plan of possibly cremating the remains ("don't think about it as a dead child, don't, you'll go spare") had a high probability of catastrophic failure. It had involved a bottle of kerosene and the gas powered decorative fire place in his study.

He settled on a less dramatic but more practical solution, as his restless gaze turned toward the tapestry hanging in front of him. He was almost positive his house had a garden. (he hadn't yet bothered to go out there, having only moved in a couple of months ago, who had the time? But he _had _hired a landscape architect.)

Now for the crucial detail upon which the success or failure of this new plan hinged;

- Do I own a shovel?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five - Outer Monologue **

The next morning found Dave and Becky asleep at the collage girls' apartment. Dave had the couch. The windows faced full east and the bright winter sun crept inexorably towards the sleeping youth's face. When it got there he sat up with a jolt that landed him on the floor.

- Ow, my head. Where am I?

Dave's' inner monologue was decidedly outer, as per usual.

The sound of his fall hadn't woken Becky, but no one could have slept through his tripping over the coffee table in search for his shoes.

- Dave? Good morning.

She said, prompting him to turn too fast and trip over his own feet again. There was a goofy grin on his face as he returned the greeting and walked over to her.

The young man could hardly believe his luck. He knew he was staring, but his girlfriend looked stunning in the morning light, her hair all tousled and wearing nothing but an overlong tee shirt. He wondered if he should kiss her. He hadn't brushed yet, so probably no, he decided sleepily.

His brain was working much too slowly this morning, he felt as though he was still drained of all energy, and wondered how he would get through today's magic lesson.

On the heels of that came the worry for Balthazar and Veronica. Stronger than last night. All he wanted to do suddenly was to run to the lab and assure himself that they were fine.

Becky sensed this, being rather perceptive by nature, and suggested that they get breakfast on the way.

Dave smiled at her in gratitude, truly appreciating how thoughtful she was.

It didn't take them long to get there. Becky was still munching on the last of her croissant when Dave rushed back up the stairs, a look of panic on his face. It had taken him only a moment to realize that plasma bolts were not on the menu today.

-The place is empty! Where would they… The hotel!

He suddenly interrupted himself and reaching for his wallet started rifling through the contents presumably in search of the address.

-What hotel?

Becky asked,

- I thought your Uncle, I mean, master, lived here with you?

-Huh?

Was Dave's distracted response. He was already leading the way back out on to the street, and Becky had no choice but to follow. He was explaining as he went that Balthazar outright refused to live in the lab, citing proximity to potentially explosive experiments, but mostly the smell of stale pizza as his reason. (Becky could understand that. The place was rather creepy in her opinion, even without the weird smells and giant electrical conductors).

[**Trivia**: Credit for the line "inner monologue was decidedly outer" goes to Ko. This little gem is used without permission. I am fairly sure he would be flattered as he secretly loves the movie as much as I do if not more.]


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six - Believe It To Be True**

Balthazar was woken by frantic knocking on the door. He ignored it in favour of making sure that last night wasn't some bizarre dream. No. Veronica was still here. She had turned towards him in her sleep, and didn't wake despite the increasing volume of the annoying knocking. He couldn't help but smile. He was sure it was Dave.

Getting up, he shut the door to the bedroom before letting Dave and Becky inside.

- Balthazar! Are you alright?

Dave's concern could possibly be explained by the fact that the older man had rolled out of bed in just the same state of dress as he'd fallen asleep in, Balthazar thought. Becky actually reached out a hand toward him, then hesitated and changed her mind, asking instead how Veronica was doing.

- We're fine. We're both fine.

He said with a happy little grin, and _wished_ more than believed it to be true. Something of that must have shown in his eyes though, as Dave's expression went almost comically concerned. He was hustled over to sit down on the couch, and then Dave began to pace the living room floor muttering

- I'm so sorry I left, I know, I shouldn't have left you, are you ok? Of course you're not! I'm sorry

Meanwhile Becky was doing something slightly more helpful. She had switched on the electric kettle and a few seconds later Balthazar found himself holding a cup of tea.

He nodded gratefully at the girl, and ran his free hand though his hair, straightened his clothes a bit, gave it up as a lost cause and took a sip.

Dave was still ranting. He had really worked himself up by now.

- David! Calm down. _Sit _down. Stop apologising,

Dave froze in his tracks, a look of anguish on his face. His master turned to Becky, who was holding two more steaming cups in her hands.

- For the sake of my sanity _don't, _please, don't give him coffee.

-It's decaf,

Becky assured with a wicked half smile on her face that made Balthazar grin and Dave blush.

- Dave,

Balthazar began again, once everyone was sitting down.

- I'm fine. Veronica is fine. You can stop worrying.

Becky placed a hand on her boyfriends' shoulder and gave it a gentle reassuring squeeze.

- We. We were just concerned,

She began uncertainly, making the older sorcerer wince with the thought that her impression of him thus far must explain the cautious tone. He hadn't exactly come off as all together _compos mentis_ the first time they met, (an image he cultivated, but only with strangers. His comment to Dave about being pleased but not surprised, while not exactly a lie, had been a verbal demonstration of his faith in the merits of his apprentice, and he hadn't really though about seeing Becky as a permanent fixture in Dave's life. If he'd thought about it at all.) And the second time? Well, he'd thrown himself off a roof top. He smiled in encouragement, hoping to seem friendly.

- You guys. You pretty much saved the world last night an' all. That's a big deal.

She continued. Dave smiled and then realised that they didn't deserve all the credit;

- We couldn't have done it without you, you know.

His master raised an enquiring eyebrow. He hadn't questioned Becky's presence on the scene last night, but now he was curious.

- Becky was the one that, err, disrupted that spell, the Rising? Yeah, she moved one of those satellites they were using. Up on the roof.

Balthazar was genuinely impressed. Becky blushed at the praise and, ducked her head when the older man turned his smile from Dave to her. There was gratitude and approval in his look, and she couldn't maintain eye contact, or think of anything to say, but a shy smile stayed on her lips non the less. "The man is… intense. But not in a bad way." was her thought.

Dave had just opened his mouth to say something, when a sound made them all turn towards the bedroom door. Veronicas' bare feet made hardly any noise on the floor boards, and she stopped in the middle of the room, her stance betraying the fact that she was unsure of weather to proceed. Balthazar jumped to his feet and in two strides was at her elbow, taking one of her hands in his in reassurance.

Veronica tried for a friendly smile in greeting.

When in became obvious that she was not going to speak first Dave rose to his feet awkwardly, and stepped closer.

-Hi,

He began.

- We didn't get to meet properly last night…. Because well, you know

There he stopped, casting a pleading look at Balthazar, begging him to rescue the moment. If he kept talking he just knew he's say something even more stupid than that.

- Veronica, this is David Stutler. My apprentice.

Veronicas' smile became genuine at that, she and Becky could plainly see the pride in his expression when he introduced Dave.

- It is a pleasure to meet you David. I owe much to you, for bringing Balthazar back to me, when I…

She trailed off. The look of anguish in her eyes was too much for Dave, who didn't even really know this woman, but felt he would do whatever he could to make that look of despair fade from her eyes. He thought maybe it was for Balthazar, or just because their fate had been so tragic up till now. He winced as he tried to imagine what his master must feel like, seeing some one he loved in pain.

Veronica quickly turned her thoughts away from the previous night. She had given up, thought him dead. Accepted it. That thought made her sick. " you are stronger than this". She thanked Dave again, eyes cast down towards the floor.

The younger man shook his head, waving away the need for any kind of thanks, and Balthazar introduced Becky, who smiled, jumped up out of her seat on the couch, rushed over to the still steaming kettle and after a moments indecision made another cup of tea. She proffered it to Veronica, who was now seated by Balthazar's side. The hand that reached out to take the cup was delicate, slender and ice cold. Becky cast a sympathetic look at her, but couldn't find any words of comfort. Dave had explained last night over dinner just who this lady was, what she had done and why.

The silence didn't last long, because Dave's mouth functioned on autopilot. It was clear to everyone in the room that Balthazar was ready to crawl out of his skin if it would make Veronica happy, and truthfully the other two weren't far behind.

- so what are your plans now that you have your life back? Oh I mean, can I still. Not important.

(He was going to ask if he could still have magic lessons, but felt like a selfish brat suddenly.)

- you're not planning to live here are you? I mean, it's a great hotel but it's gotta be murder on the bank balance right?

Veronica wondered is she should answer, but the young mans nervous babble didn't seem to require an actual reply as he continued.

- Maybe you could get a house? Around here, somewhere maybe…

(again his thoughts veered towards his personal proximity to Balthazar, and he nearly kicked himself. Dave was well aware that he wasn't good at meeting new people, and wondered if he could possibly stop demonstrating that fact now. Why wouldn't Balthazar just tell him to shut up?)

Balthazar listened to his apprentice with a thoughtful expression on his face, and thought about damage control. Dave had a point. Ever since Veronica came in to the room he was nearly sick with worry over how out of place she must feel. He had chosen this hotel because it was easy distance from Dave's lab. It was just a place to sleep, he hadn't paid attention to the décor, (it had really been the least of his worries) But now there were other considerations. The room was done up in a very modern style, the art on the walls was of the abstract print variety, the furniture streamlined and square and beige. It must all look completely alien to Veronica.

And he wished with all his heart for her to feel safe and comfortable, something that would take more than his presence, Dave's friendly babble and Becky's' tea to achieve. (Is this love, or is it guilt? A part of him wondered, and the rest of him hated the mere thought.)

Happily Balthazar was a man of action.

- Becky!

He suddenly interrupted.

- Yes?

He leant forward in his seat, intent on setting his plans in motion. But he would need some help.

- I need you and Dave to do me a favour.

Beckoning her to follow he left a bemused Dave and Veronica sitting in the living room and led the way to the bedroom. Becky found him in there rooting around on the floor for something.

Dave cleared his throat, and instead of launching in to another monologue as Veronica had half expected, he looked up at her with his kind brown eyes and asked awkwardly if she was ok.

Veronica smiled and assured him that yes she was.

- Good. I'm glad.

Was all he said, and they shared the silence for a while.

Everyone was being so kind to her, and while it was all bewildering she genuinely liked both David and Becky. They both seemed to be very worried, for her, or Balthazar, or both.

She wished there was something she could do or say to reassure them, but right now her priority was, through necessity, maintaining her composure and not running off to hide in a dark corner until the world went away like she desperately wanted to do. That would make them worry more. And she had always so hated being a bother.

A short time later Becky and Balthazar emerged from the other room. A quick nod at Dave from his master as he tried to convey some message left the younger man confused but then Becky took a hold of his hand and bid a warm see you later to both Veronica and Balthazar, and he got the hint.

Balthazar could have just conjured the clothes and other things he'd sent Becky to get, but (putting aside the fact that he wasn't all that good at clothes, despite transmutation being his strongest skill) he was still feeling drained. Also, he'd needed a way to get the two out of the room for a while, to get a chance to talk to Veronica alone.

His solution seemed to kill two birds with one stone. Flying in the face of every reproach he'd ever given Dave about the frivolous use of the art, he cast an intricate glamour on the surroundings. Shaking off the dizziness, he turned to Veronica with a small smile.

- Is this a little better?


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter seven - Dr B Blake, PhD. (or Retail Therapy) **_

_- So, err, what are we doing?_

_Asked Dave as they made their way down the high street. _

_Becky turned to him with a broad smile inspired by the small square plastic object currently in her possession that bore the inscription Dr B Blake, PhD and had no credit limit._

_-Shopping!_

_She confessed gleefully, and turned in to a store. Dave followed. Dave looked around. Dave ran away. Not too far away, he could still see the Victoria's Secrets sign from the fountain, but being inside made him feel uncomfortable in the extreme. "shouldn't I feel horny? I mean, those mannequins were pretty hot…" But no. He had felt rather perverted even while carefully trying not to look at anything._

Eventually, Becky emerged and handed him an embarrassingly pink bag to carry. It seemed that her enjoyment of the "shopping" activity didn't depend on being the intended recipient of the goods purchased. It was enough, apparently, to be in their presence. Dave would never understand.

Before long he was in possession of several more bags and one hat box, (for Balthazar, the only input he'd been allowed to have during this entire exercise. There had been two casualties of last nights epic battle after all, and he could not afford to replace the car.)

They were on their way back to the Fairview when a commotion in the crowd of pedestrians ahead forced them to stop.

A familiar English accented voice was protesting loudly to be perfectly fine. The crowd was made up of two separate factions. Half was intent an calling an ambulance and the other half demanding an autograph. Everyone in possession of a camera was snapping pictures. (fame has it's drawbacks.)

-Oh no,

Muttered Dave, as he tried to decide what he should do. Becky ventured closer to the scene, asking him what was wrong.

-That guy. He's the bad guy. Sort of. He's Horvath's apprentice. Or was anyway, I thought he was dead, Horvath had his ring…

They had dithered too long. Drake, extricating himself from the crowd finally, pointed an accusatory finger right at Dave and stumbled forward on two inch heeled boots looking mostly a lot like a crazy person, but also a little like he'd been rolling around in mud.

-You! I've been looking for you.

And then his eyes rolled up and he gracefully folded over and passed out pretty much face first in to the decorative fake fern.

The ambulance-calling-for faction of the crowd won.

[Trivia: The PhD on the credit card: something I thought Balthazar would find amusing. And no Dave didn't use Balthazar's credit card to buy him a present. Isn't he sweet J]


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter eight -** **On how Drake ended up face first in a decorative fake fern.**

Drake woke up en route to Downtown Hospital. His first impulse was to sit up but the abortive effort to do so made his head spin.

- Sir! Please lay still.

A voice cautioned. He turned his head towards it just in time to witness the look of recognition cross the young EMT's face

- hey, aren't you

But here he interrupted him, trying again to get up

-Yes. Yes, I am, and I'll sign whatever you want me to sweetheart, if you just let me out of here, now.

- a waver?

Came the unimpressed response. He had passed out again.

The next time he came to he was in a hospital bed with an IV sticking out of his arm. More disturbingly, some one had taken it upon themselves to change him in to a standard hospital gown, a fact he discovered when he lifted up the scratchy blanket. This put a stop his plan to leave immediately.

A nurse walked in to his (private, thank god for small favours) room as if on cue, explaining patiently when prompted that he could go nowhere until his blood analysis was back, or the hospital would not be responsible, etc.

He lay back down with a sigh. He could wait a while. He wasn't feeling his best, after all. He had a strong suspicion however that what ever was wrong with him wasn't anything medical. Prior to the last twenty four hours or so he had never been prone to spontaneous fits of fainting no matter the inducement. (not counting the bathroom stall incident that crept up in the eye of recent memory, but head trauma doesn't count as spontaneous he decided.)

And, all in all it had been a rough day. Anyone that had spent the morning digging a grave in their own back yard like some hapless cartoon villain and then the afternoon trying not to walk in to things and reading street signs with double vision was entitled to a little nap.

For the longest time sleep would not come. "no rest for the wicked, eh?" he thought in despair. His ring finger itched like crazy, and his only recourse seemed to be asking the Merlinians for help. The very same people he'd been trying to kill yesterday. He could perhaps open with an explanation that he'd never wanted to kill anyone, (lest of all his fans, damn it! When Horvath had said that they'd all be dead soon it had finally sunk in exactly where he stood in the good vs. evil fight, and also why he was now stuck there. "Coward" he thought.) But one didn't simply say no to Horvath. At least, _he_ was not that one.

Not that any amount of explaining or begging for forgiveness was going to get him anything but a plasma bolt in the face, but he had to try, at least. Something told him that the clock was ticking. He was probably dead either way. The girl had died. She hadn't had a ring either. Maybe it was just taking him longer. ("always too slow, can't do anything right, even shuffle off the mortal coil" the voice of his first master spoke to him tauntingly in his mind, and he wondered if he was going mad).

Meanwhile, Becky and Dave made their way back to the hotel. Dave knocked on the door again, but when it was opened it revealed a much different scene than the room he was expecting.

Balthazar was standing in what for all intents and purposes appeared to he the hall of some medieval castle, complete with wall sconces and tapestries.

Becky looked around in awe.

- This magic stuff. It's cool.

The ease of her acceptance was surprising but welcome. Veronica was sitting on a little dainty chair by a gigantic fireplace where the TV used to be, and next to her stood a startlingly out of place looking serving table on wheels with a number of chafing dishes on it.

- You must be hungry. Balthazar has procured some food for us. Please…

She gestured to the table.

Dave grinned and dumping the bags he carried on the floor made his way eagerly to the promised food. Becky returned the credit card to its owner with a hint of regret. (Balthazar gathered that she had abstained from getting anything she wanted for her self as per his instructions as payment for the favour.)

- You'll never guess who we ran in to.

Dave said across the room, still chewing. (The dishes revealed a number of different finger foods, as mysterious as they were delicious.)

Becky joined him at the table, and smiled along with Veronica at her boyfriend's enthusiasm for the food.

Balthazar had raised a questioning eyebrow prompting Dave to recount the strange encounter.

- We got you some stuff.

Becky said to Veronica as an aside

- you wanna see?

She asked, nibbling on a bit of toast.

- Thank you,

Veronica rose from her seat, and Becky went to grab the bags from the floor. They retired to the bedroom with the loot, but soon after Becky emerged again and handed a box to Dave, who was still eating.

-Oh yeah. Thanks.

He said, blushing a bit. Becky thought it was adorable.

- So. He's not dead after all?

Commented the older wizard when she left again in a tone that expressed no great interest either way. Dave was about to think that this was a little callous but then Balthazar smiled that little half smile of his as if he knew what his apprentice was thinking, and as usual it was all wrong.

- I got this for you. You don't have to wear it. Obviously. Um. Here.

He shoved the box at Balthazar, and turned all his attention to his food.

Meanwhile his master opened the box, and Dave tried to watch discreetly out of the corner of his eye for the reaction. A bright grin lit up the older mans face for a second, making him seem years younger, and he came over to ruffle Dave's hair affectionately.

- Dave. You are really sappy. Thank you.

The earnestness of the tone made them both laugh for a moment, and when Balthazar tried on his new hat (which was in fact indistinguishable from the old hat) Dave told him it looked good, which prompted another annoying hair ruffle.

- So. What do you wanna do about what's-his-name?

Dave enquired, looking for soda in the mini fridge (which now looked like an antique chest of drawers on the outside).

- Without his ring, he isn't a threat to anyone. But he did say he was looking for you…

- I guess I should go talk to him.

Dave made that sound like a question with his eyes. Balthazar nodded in grim determination, and started to don his coat.

- No! I didn't mean you have to go! You should stay here with Veronica.

The older man paused, uncertain.

- Like you said, he's harmless now.

Dave added when more convincing seemed to be needed.

-It could be a trap.

His master cautioned.

-You will be careful. I would hate to have to come and rescue you.

Dave grinned. The concern felt good. The trust felt better.

Becky had upended all the brightly coloured bags on to the bed and kept a running monologue viz. the contents.

- I wasn't sure what colour to get, but I thought you might like this? (she held up a lilac and white coloured blouse,) and these would look great with it, the shoes might be the wrong size, but Balthazar said that it would be easy to resize them? (a dainty pair of jewelled slippers were presented to her for approval)

- it is all lovely. Thank you, Becky, I understand that I have a lot to catch up on…

Veronica said, picturing herself in breeches. It had always been a dream of hers to be able to wear men's clothing (riding in a gown was tricky) and it seemed like she could now. No one would cast any queer looks if she chose to forgo the skirts and corsets, if Becky's own outfit was anything to go on. Last night had been so disorienting that she couldn't remember what the people they passed on the street had looked like.

- I picked up some toiletries for you as well, the little complimentary shampoos at these hotels are horrible,

Becky continued as if she expected Veronica to know what she was talking about. Veronica nodded in agreement. She was handed a large pink bag made out of a strange sort of leather. Becky had vanished in to the adjoining room, and a second later a bright light could be seem through the open door.

Veronica followed. She held the sealed bag in one hand, and a modern version of a hazel twig in the other (she could work out the purpose of same from the illustrated toothy smile on the packaging.)

- did Balthazar show you how this works?

Becky continued, turning a knob placed over a basin. Water rushed out.

- Oh. No.

She looked on in wonder. Becky rolled her eyes, muttered "uh. Men!" under her breath, and then patiently explained the workings of the taps, the toilet and the in door rain that she called the shower. Veronica was starting to loose track.

- This is magic?

She asked uncertainly. She had been assured that Becky couldn't do any magic.

- no. this is plumbing.

The girl informed her with a kind smile, and proceeded to explain which potions were for her hair ("you have such beautiful hair") which were soap, and which she was to use for her teeth.

- So, I'll just leave these clothes here on the counter for you, and if you need anything just yell, ok

Becky was saying as she backed out of the small room, closing the door behind her.

Veronica glanced in the mirror. She had been avoiding looking at her own reflection until now, it was difficult to believe that there was no magic involved in creating the large pane of reflective glass. Of all these modern conveniences. The woman that stared back at her looked frightened and tired and out of place.

"but at least she could be clean" Veronica decided, and applied herself to figuring out how to work a zipper.

Thoughts raced through her head, themed largely around the fact that she had missed the last one thousand two hundred and sixty years. When Becky and David were sent on their errand Balthazar had explained just how much time had passed. He was being so gentle with her, so careful, as if she was fragile, ("and I suppose I must be"). This was a strange thought for her. She had always been the strong one. The independent one, never needing or asking for help. But the world had changed so much, and the sizeable gap in her memory rose up and threatened to choke her once more.

She stepped in to the shower and tried to ignore it. Her first question upon learning that Balthazar had been alone for all this time was

- Do you love me still? Truly?

He had smiled, a sad smile she'd never seen on his face before and replied

- Ab imo pectore.

He hadn't dared to kiss her again, though she could see him wanting to. Her spirit almost rose to the occasion enough for her to demand a kiss. He loved her, as before, from the bottom of his heart - the familiar Latin words were a balm.

"Perhaps we could begin again" She'd thought. When they met he'd been Merlin's apprentice for some years, a prince of the realm no less, and as meek and mild a boy as she'd ever met. He didn't tease or pull her hair, and she hadn't trusted him even a little.

Her father had been a rich merchant, with one son and five daughters, and when Merlin came calling for the youngest and most sullen and unmanageable child that had of late taken to locking herself in the tower and _reading _for days on end he was only too happy to send her along with him.

They had learned together, the three of them. Maxim and Balthazar were evenly matched then, and Veronica did everything humanly possible to outdo them. Some how true contention had gone out of their relationship though as time passed, (it helped that she could eventually cast any spell they could and was in fact better with a blade) and then, her feelings for Balthazar started to change. She didn't notice at first. But apparently Horvath did. He betrayed them, and it was her fault!

She fought through the screaming blackness in her mind trying to logic through that thought. Of course it was not her fault. She couldn't help what had happened any more than Balthazar could. Sweet Balthazar, who's idea of courtly love meant that he would hardly even dare to touch her hand then, and she had never been so happy in her life as the last two weeks before her imprisonment.

So of course she would sacrifice her self for him. She had never been in love before. And now, he was so much older than her, they were figurative miles apart, and yet he still loved her. Had done, all this time.

So maybe, just maybe she could try to live in this new world, if it meant being with him. Even if so much else had changed, their feelings for each other remained.

She had told him earlier when they were alone that she couldn't remember anything from her time in the Grimhold. This was true, for the most part, but the black void where the memories felt like they should have been was almost worse. Some times she got flashes of screams, unending darkness, despair.

She brushed her teeth and tried to forget.

(Latin: from the bottom of my heart. Roughly speaking. Actually - from the deepest chest verbatim.)

[Trivia: I had Balthazar speak Latin here mostly to have an excuse to mention the language barrier problem that Veronica does **not **appear to be having. In circa 740AD they could _in potentia _have spoken in Old English, which bears very little resemblance either in spoken or written form to Modern English. (cf. Canterbury Tales or Beowulf) The first text written in Old English is dated to about 300 years after Veronica gets trapped in the Grimhold. They would certainly have been able to speak Latin though, as that was the language of the church at the time and any higher echelons of society could reasonably be expected to know how to read. Most religious texts would have been written in Latin, and I'm assuming the same for the incantus. Still, neither Old English nor Latin would help Veronica read or speak modern English. Before I realised this fact I was actually going to include the following:

Scene: V at computer, surfing Wikipedia to catch up on 1300 yrs of history. V: One question. What does it mean - tl;dr?] - implausible.

At any rate, how do I explain her English Speaking Good? I don't. How does Disney explain it? I doesn't. J]


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter nine - Acta Non Verba (Deeds, Not Words)**

Just when Drake finally started to drift off, who should walk in but the prime Merlinian himself.

The idiot child was pointing his ring at him, like he thought Drake was likely to jump off the bed and attack him.

- so. What do you want?

That was an interesting way to open a conversation with some one when breaking in to their hospital room, and Drake was tempted to reply with "sanctuary" for kicks. Deciding that he'd get kicks a plenty without his usual brand of wit he went with:

- Hello! David, innit? How nice of you to stop by. You can put that away, I'm unarmed.

Dave eyed the other man mistrustfully, but put his hand down and edged around the bed to sit on the visitors chair. Drake had made no move to get up, and they stared at one another for a while, giving the younger man a chance to notice that Drake really didn't look like he could attack him even if he wanted to.

His face was pale and drawn, the eye make up he wore had smeared, making the bruises under his eyes even more vivid. He had an IV sticking out of his arm.

- you look like hell.

He pointed out at length.

- well thanks! And now that the pleasantries are out the way, do you _mind_ if I ask you a question?

Drake drawled sarcastically, sitting up in bed, and examining his nails casually.

- What?

-What happed to Horvath?

A steely gaze suddenly zeroed in on Dave instead of the ruined manicure, and he scowled before replying that he had no clue, the man had run off like a coward after they defeated Morgana. (ok he was gloating a little at this point)

-Why would you care what happened to him anyway? Didn't he, like, leave you for dead? Oh, wait a minute, you just want your ring back, is that it?

Drake rolled his eyes at Dave's eureka moment.

-You, my young friend, really are a genius. Well done. Have a gold star.

Dave decided about then that he didn't need to take this amount of sarcasm from anyone but Balthazar, and got up to leave.

- Well. Glad I could help (he gave as good as he got,) if there's anything else you need…

- Hey wait! Wait, wait, wait.

Dave turned at the door, and tried to look all cool and indifferent by raising his eyebrow in silence. Drake tried to keep a straight face. (both met with failure)

- Can you at least tell me if he had it with him? My ring?

Dave cast his thoughts back to the other night. No immediate memory rose to fill the gap viz. the ring.

- He had it… ("should I even be telling him this? Here lies the enemy an' all…") it was on his cane. As far as I know, he still has the cane. What's wrong with you, anyway?

Drake was about to take that as a general insult directed at his person, and then it occurred that he meant the ignominious trip in to the fern earlier that David had been fortunate enough to witness.

- Oh you know. Allergies.

He snarked, and wondered if there was any point continuing this conversation. He'd feel immensely better standing, but there was a slight semi-nakedness issue.

- Dave, be a dear and get my clothes will you?

This time Dave demonstrated his coolness but actually walking out the door and slamming it behind him, in spite of loud protests.

He walked toward the exit, mission accomplished, when he noticed the voice. It was following him, and trailing a certain amount of chaos and destruction in it's wake by the sounds of it.

-What now?

He turned around, and sure enough, there was the bleached wonder, half hopping down the corridor, screaming incomprehensible English obscenities, shoving bewildered staff and patients out of the way and only _mostly_ wearing clothes.

- Take me to your leader!

He finally pronounced, catching up, out of breath.

Dave covered his face with his hands and peeked through his fingers at the dramatic pose the lunatic has assumed.

-And what possible excuse would I give for inflicting _you, _a clearly _disturbed_ person on him?

Drake casually draped an arm over Dave's shoulders and turned them back towards the door.

- Oh, a smart lad like you? I'm sure you'll think of something!

- get off me.

- glad to sugar. Hail us a cab then.

- we're walking.

- no we're not.

- yes, we are.

- no we're not

-_Yes_, we _are!_

- No, we're-

- OK! Cab! Just shut up!

Drake smirked. Being this annoying on purpose took a lot of work. But he really couldn't walk any great distance, not with his head spinning like it was, and besides, the prime merlinian just made it too much fun to resist.

Due to a rather unfortunate set of circumstances his reception at Good Guy Headquarters was everything he had anticipated.

- Dave? Are you on a sugar high? Stop talking for a second, and just nod yes or no.

Balthazar was not pleased. They had arrived at the hotel, and got as far as two steps in to the room when the older wizard threw a plasma bolt straight at Drake. Dave started to babble loudly at high speed even before he landed, having cleared the whole room, at the feet of a very attractive woman wearing a surprised look on her face. Balthazar continued to yell at Dave.

- I'm sorry, he followed me home!

- He is not a puppy Dave.

Meanwhile, the woman, reaching a hand out to help him up off the floor asked him who he was. His penchant for self depreciating dramatics was not a friend.

-I'm what passes for a Morganian these days.

-Morganian!

Veronica extended a hand, and Drake found himself dangling from an invisible grip by the neck three feet off the floor.

-Hey (he choked) I come in peace people! What would it take to convince you?

This little show down had finally drawn everyone's attention, but it was the woman that carried on speaking;

-Acta, non verba.

She pronounced, tightening the hold.

- You're, the one, attacking me!

Drake wheezed out, grade school Latin lessons finally paying off.

This seemed to snap her out of her vengeful valkyrie trance and she released her hold. Predictably, the unfortunate Merlinian landed on his back side on the floor, and proceeded to gasp for breath. "so. This must be Veronica Gorloisen"

-Thank you, my lady.

He said, glaring, and then winced and more or less crab walked backwards until he hit the wall behind him when Balthazar took two long strides forward.

The man stopped, in light of the complete lack of visible threat, just short of where Drake still lay on the floor, but his general attitude hinted that another plasma bolt was very much an option still. Drake didn't bother to get up.

- You're going to try to find Horvath, right?

Balthazar nodded and gestured for him to continue,

- So, I help you find him, you help me get my ring back?

In two seconds flat Drake found himself dangling from a very strong grip by his collar.

- Even putting aside the fact that trusting a little turn cost like you is the _last _thing on my list of ways to commit suicide, how, exactly, would you be of any help?

Darke opened his mouth to reply, but Balthazar wasn't done,

- Just yesterday you were doing your admittedly sub par best to try and kill us!

- Hey! If I wanted to kill you, (Drake said, avoiding eye contact) I could have just crushed your car in to a pancake with you in it yesterday!

- but I didn't! (He hurried to add the salient point) I stopped.

Balthazar let go of his coat, and gave him an apprising look.

- You're lying.

He pronounced. And, to be fair, Drake was. It was a happy coincidence that the garbage truck he was driving at the time, having not been designed with crushing pinto's in mind, had stalled out. He didn't want to think about what he would have done if it hadn't. "would I have killed them? Horvath would have, if I didn't."

-No I'm not! I let him assume you were dead!

And that at least was true enough.

Balthazar felt Veronicas gentle hand on his sleeve, and backed off a little. She came to stand in front of Drake, between them, and looked him over. The young morganian was tempted to cringe away, but stood his ground. The woman raised a hand, and touched two fingers lightly to his forehead.

-You're hurt.

She said, in accented English, and pushing Balthazar out of the way proceeded to lead Drake by the arm to a couch. He was about to say that a plasma bolt to the chest could be the reason why, but then, she was intent on choking him a second ago, and this was a definite improvement.

- What did Maxim do to you?

She asked once he was seated. Drake felt a little like he was on trial.

- He did some sort of spell. I don't remember.

He didn't dare to look at Balthazar, who was sitting on the arm of the opposite sofa. He could feel the man's gaze drilling holes in to him. To say that he was intimidated by the older sorcerer would be an understatement. He tried to look as pathetic as possible, and it seemed to be working, because the next thing Veronica said was "We have to help him".

Balthazar went from looking like a furious battle mage ready to kill him to looking about as pathetic as Drake. To add insult to injury Veronica then turned to him and said,

- And don't try that look on me, it will not work

"At least not twice in a row" she thought to herself.

- Just think of it as returning the favour for Sinclair.

Veronica continued, with a mischievous smile.

Balthazar sighed, and tried to look grudging, but inside he was grinning ear to ear, because he hadn't thought he'd get to see that expression on her loves face again any time soon. Truth be told, he didn't mind keeping Drake around, especially if it some how made Veronica happy. And anyone could see that Horvath's ex apprentice was too terrified of him to try and double cross them. Besides, something was seriously wrong with the boy. He'd felt it when he touched him. Veronica must have as well, hence the sudden sympathy.

Just then Becky walked through the door laden down with two large pizza boxes, and asked what she had missed.

- Why are we helping?

Dave whined, earning a glare from Drake.

- Yeah, who's Sinclair?

Becky contributed, working out what she had missed from context. She arranged the boxes on the wooden table between the two sofas and sat next to Veronica hoping to encourage an explanation. The older woman had seemed so withdrawn when she re-emerged from the bedroom earlier, (despite all the compliments re: her new look) it was good to see her laughing.

- Oh, did not Balthazar tell you?

She was addressing both Dave and Becky now, while the man in question tried to melt in to the floor.

- Sinclair is what he named his familiar. The result was most unfortunate. You see once a sorcerer chooses his familiar and gives him a name the two are bound together for life. Sinclair was a baby griffin.

This pronouncement amazed the whole room, and Balthazar chuckled, as Drake exclaimed "But you can't tame griffins!"

- Balthazar Maxim and I decided that the Master would most likely not approve of such a pet. Balthazar begged us to help him keep it a secret, not an easy task, especially after the vicious thing destroyed part of the castle cellar, and ate most of the local livestock.

Everyone was chuckling now at Balthazar's expense, including Veronica, so he didn't mind much. He'd forgotten about Sinclair, it happened such a long time ago.

- What happened when Merlin found out?

Asked Dave, all three young people hanging on her every word,

- Well, our punishment was to put right everything the creature had destroyed. As for Sinclair… Is he still?

This last was directed at Balthazar, who nodded ruefully and pointed out of the window.

- The Master turned him in to a dove, until he learned to behave himself.

Four heads turned toward the window sill and sure enough, there was a white dove looking in on them from outside the pane. Balthazar went to let him in, and the little bird but secretly really a griffin went to land on Veronica's shoulder and cooed in greeting.

- Hello old friend. I guess a thousand years was not enough to teach _you_ how to behave?

Balthazar smiled as he petted the little white feathered head.

- At least he's too small to eat cattle.

Sinclair bit his finger.


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors Note: **Thank you Tara, for your kind words. Statistically speaking this is the worst fic in its category if the review/chapter ratio is to be taken as a measure of merit.

**Chapter Ten - But why a spoon?**

It would have been convenient at least from the point of the narrative to say that the congenial moment over dinner set the tone for future interaction of the group, but alas, it was of course the exception and not the rule. Contributing factors included a lack of trust and some very justified animosity on the part of Balthazar towards the newest member of their 'club'.

Said member sat on the edge of the couch, observing each person present in turn, but his eyes lingered most often on the older sorcerer. When their gaze met Drake would visibly tense and look away.

Becky and Dave had retreated to a private corner of the room after dinner, and sat whispering to each other like school girls. Their knees touched as they leaned in to each others space. Drake watched them for a minute.

"Well. At least I'm not dead" He had to remind himself constantly of the upside. Balthazar and Veronica were also having a whispered conversation on the couch opposite him across the table, and damned if Drake didn't't feel like a fifth wheel. They at least were probably discussing what to do with him. (He didn't mind. It was the lesser of two evils. He didn't know what he'd do if they started giggling like school girls as well.) It was a good guess as to the topic anyway, at one point Veronica had interrupted their whispered conference with a rather blunt

-Are you able to cast?

aimed at Drake. He had shook his head no, and they went back to their discussion.

His inability to do any magic just now was a point of great concern for Drake. "how exactly are you going to be of any use?" He wasn't really sure why Balthazar's words from earlier bothered him so much, or why, against all reason, he wanted to apologise to the man, but the feeling persisted. "What he bloody hell am I thinking? I'd crawl if he wanted me to, if only…" but he cut that thought off. Smirked instead. "kinky," He tried to distract himself. Doomed though he may be, Drake was anything but a passive participant. "A point only rarely in my favour," he thought, his smile widening, and cleared his throat conspicuously.

- So. I just hate to interrupt but the suspense is killing me, (Balthazar winced but Drake carried on regardless) have you decided to see reason yet?

- By which you mean?

Balthazar tilted his head waiting for the no doubt stellar argument in favour of letting Drake live at least for the present.

- Teaming up with me of course!

Drake said with as much hauteur as he could put in to his voice (quite a lot)

- Face it, you need me.

-Like a hole in the head,

Contributed Dave from the other side of the room, and Balthazar looked ready to agree, but Veronica elbowed him sharply in the ribs and he seemed to reconsider what he'd been about to say. He got off the couch and walked around to Drakes side of the table. Close in his personal space. There was no other way to interpret that than as a threat. Drake all but jumped to his feet, and felt oddly grateful as well as terrified when Balthazar gripped him under the elbow and took most of his weight, (The sudden move had made his head spin and he would have landed back on his arse if it hadn't been for the support, though he was sure that it was merely coincidental.) Drake couldn't move away as the taller man leaned in close enough to almost whisper in his ear and growled

- One thing. If you so much as think about double crossing me, there is not a place in this world that I can't find you.

Then, he seemed to un-tense all at once, basically placed Drake back on the couch and took a half step back, looking like he'd done nothing strange, and added

- As long as you kids learn to play nice together, we shouldn't have a problem.

Drake nodded, stunned at this mercurial change of mood, and reasoned that either Balthazar was bipolar (and after two thousand years, who could blame him?) or that the congenial laid back persona was just a mask for the homicidal maniac who even now was mentally thinking of places to bury the body after he scooped out his eyeballs with a rusty spoon. ("Great. Just the thought I needed to put me at my ease…")

-But why as spoon, my lord?

Drake muttered under his breath, and grinned nervously at Balthazar who was of course close enough to hear. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and nodded in an imperious way, trying not to show his fear.

-I'm sure we can learn to work together,

He pronounced to the room at large,

-For the greater good. And what not.

Veronica raised an eyebrow, and Balthazar chuckled, as if genuinely amused. Drake nodded, and tried again to get up. He reminded himself not to speak any more unless absolutely necessary, because he could feel his thoughts unravelling. The pain in his chest was spreading outwards to his extremities, his headache had increased by a factor of ten, and he didn't want his new found allies to think he was completely insane by voicing any more inner dialogue. His attempt at regaining his feet was less than successful. Happily, just then Veronica came to his rescue by suggesting that he should rest.

"What a wonderful idea" thought Drake, nodding wordlessly. Now if only he could get up and walk back home like a normal person that knew how to take a hint. "veto normal, can't even get up." He could have tried to claim ignorance and pretend that she meant he rest _here, _with them, at the hotel, but his brain wasn't working well enough to muster the mental acrobatics that conversation would require. No, all in all, he decided it was better not to try Balthazar's patience too much. It was just a little pain. He could deal. He'd ask the reception downstairs to call him a cab. He discreetly dug the short nails of his left hand in to his palm feeling them pierce the skin, and the resulting adrenaline rush propelled him to his feet, with a small stagger that he passed off as his usual theatrics, turning vaguely towards the sound of Veronicas voice, (his vision having greyed out) he said in what he hoped was a normal voice

-Right then. Bed time for me I think. I will see you lot bright and early tomorrow? Cheerio!

He started across the room picking his way very carefully. Balthazar stared in some amazement. He felt a twinge of guilt for the plasma bolt surprise welcome earlier. Drake, obviously about to pass out, had not only managed to get to his feet, but was also doing a semi credible job of trying to appear fine (or would be if he wasn't in fact credibly walking towards the window instead of the door) "Not that he'll make it that far.." Veronica reached out a hand towards Drake with a wince and half stood obviously also sensing impending disaster, just as Balthazar vaulted over the sofa and across the room but it was Dave who was closest and jumped to his feet getting there just in time to stop the young illusionist from falling face first on to the floor.

Dave had miscalculated the angle slightly, and having caught Drake tripped over his own feet and would have fallen, had his master not been there to catch them both.

- Maybe you should take the couch.

Balthazar said with some irony, noticing Drakes rather panicked gaze on him as he struggle to get out of what was now kind of a three way hug. The older man smiled at the thought. Dave was standing on his own, and relinquished his burden to Balthazar, sharing a grin with Veronica at the picture they must have made.

- Relax,

The older man said to the boy still in his arms, but that didn't seem to have the effect he was going for. Maybe he'd overdone it with the intimidation tactics earlier? With Dave gone Drake devoted the last of his strength to trying to stand on his own, or maybe just get away from him. Balthazar winced. There was blood on the kids hand, and he was about an inch away from screaming in terror. In fact, Balthazar wondered what was holding him back, all things considered, but apparently Drake was made of sterner stuff than he'd thought. His estimation of the youth went up another notch as he actually managed to stand on his own again, and even choked out a

-Thanks. Clumsy.

In their general direction, including Dave in the attempt at gratitude and misdirection.

- Relax. I wont hurt you.

Balthazar said again, trying to reassure, holding that panicked gaze with his own, but was not sure if Drake heard or not, and the youth swayed on his feet and his knees folded under him. Perhaps it was a mercy that he was unconscious when Balthazar lifted him in his arms and placed him on the sofa that Veronica charmed to transform in to a more comfortable place to sleep. (there were tasselled cushions and an embroidered quilt with little doves on it. She was a soft touch.)

- He's been doing that all day.

Dave complained, then narrowed his eyes as he looked at the passed out form of his arch nemesis (sort of). Then, glancing from Balthazar to Veronica and back he displayed the trait the in his master's opinion was his greatest asset; The thing that made him endearing and vulnerable, but also gave him focus and the strength to accomplish anything.

- Will he be ok?

Balthazar smiled in approval at Dave, who just seemed puzzled at what he'd done to earn it, but the next moment he found himself glancing at Veronica in question.

- He is dying.

She confirmed, and Balthazar couldn't quite look up at his apprentices face. Of course Dave still lived in the happy world where his master could fix everything. "and why not?" Balthazar thought. If two thousand years had taught him anything it was that if he couldn't succeed, then he'd damn well better die trying.

-He'll be fine. He's got us to help him, doesn't he?

Dave smiled a brilliant thousand watt grin, Veronica nodded with the surety of a general assembling her troops and Becky was at her side in another instant asking how she could help.

"Now, if only I had some way of backing that up" thought Balthazar. He looked down at the couch again; an idea forming in his mind.

- So,

Dave said

-What, exactly is wrong with him?

[Trivia: In almost every chapter I have Drake quote a line from the movies. Can anyone guess what movie I used this time?]


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter eleven - Horvath**

Horvath stood on the edge of the sidewalk, contemplating the rain. It always rained in London.

His contact was late, his fur collar was getting soaked, and he was annoyed. Why oh why couldn't he win at least once? Well, his streak of bad luck (and that's one long streak!) was going to change. He'd make sure of it.

The indignity of fleeing New York in ignominious defeat was lessened somewhat by the plan he had begun to hatch almost directly after his life's work had been destroyed by Balthazar, and that upstart whelp, prime Merlinian.

At first all he'd been able to think about was the humiliating moment when having seen Morgana coalesce out of a cascade of goo spewing from the Grimhold his immediate thought had been that Veronica was standing before him once more. He'd almost lost all composure. Of course Morgana's words were quick enough to snap him out of his self delusion. Veronica was dead. He was sure of it. No one had the strength of will to survive such a long time trapped in a prison designed to hold the most powerful sorceress, especially being trapped in there _with her_.

And now she was dead, or as good as. They both were.

"She chose him, and now she is gone. She was gone a long time ago."

He winced as he tried to return his thoughts to their righteous anger, directed at Balthazar, his long time rival. It was no longer about that, damn it! It was about power. It was about proving that he was better, stronger, more clever. It didn't matter why he'd turned to Morgana in the first place, not anymore!

He wasn't really fooling himself, as the thought that ran in parallel had to do with what Veronica might say to him if by some miracle she had survived, and they were to meet. Nothing good, he was sure. "Not that I care. Not anymore."

He heard a soft sound behind him, some one was trying to be stealthy and mostly failing.

- You're late.

He said in a casual yet menacing voice as he turned around slowly and pointed the glowing top of his walking stick at the cowering figure the sleeting rain revealed. He looked briefly at the rings that adorned the cane. The blue one was glowing faintly, he was still drawing power from it, despite having used most of the energy it contained during the initial spell to break open the Grimhold. "who knew that idiot was so strong?" He thought in passing, and then took another step towards his contact.

The man was cowering, his long Macintosh hid most of the bowed over figure from ears to ankles, but the trembling was still noticeable. He shuffled a little closer, lifting his fish like pale watery gaze to the other man and extended a pleading hand to forestall any punishment.

-Apologies, master. I have. I h-have what you're looking for.

Horvath smiled. Yes, he would make sure he won this time. Whatever it cost him.

**Authors Note:** Yes it is very short. But look! I posted the next one too.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 - Everybody Loves Me**

Drake woke up in an unfamiliar bed, and stared at the unfamiliar ceiling. Confusion reigned. So did some of the plaster._ "Earthquake? Since when do we have earthquakes?"_

- Where in blazes am I?

Voicing this thought resulted in a whimper followed by some shuffling and finally a loud crash just to the left of him. Closer inspection of his surroundings revealed Dave, who had evidently fallen off the chair he'd been sleeping in, next to the bed.

- You're awake.

Dave observed, scraping himself off the carpet. The house had stopped shaking.

-Am I?

Drake wondered. His head felt somewhat better than before, and recent memory suggested he should be in Balthazar's hotel room. Demonstrably he was not. This room was empty save for the bed he was lying on and the chair Dave had fallen out of.

-Dave?

Drake enquired, rising an eyebrow.

-yes?

Dave asked. The eyebrow climbed higher.

-Oh. Yes. You're in our new place. In Greenwich. Erm. You wouldn't wake up, so we kinda' brought you here while you were out. Are you feeling better?

Drake nodded vaguely while getting out of bed. Truth was, he wasn't sure how he was feeling. Seeing that at least this time awakening in a strange bed had spared him the indignity of trying to find his clothes, he threw back the covers and got to his feet.

Dave hovered behind, like he was getting ready to catch him if he fell. The whole situation was so bizarre that Drake wasn't sure how to react. Why should Dave care? Why on earth was he brought here? The older boy threw a glance over his shoulder; the hovering was getting annoying.

-Dave? Be a dear and get me some herbal tea would you? I need to have a word with your master.

Straitening out his jacket, he made his way out of the room, swagger in his step, with all the confidence he could fake.

Which left Dave standing in the middle of the upstairs bedroom of a semi-furnished fully detached mansion in Greenwich, close to amenities, only $30,000,000 magical dollars. Cash.

Dave had ended up giving Balthazar a talk about the trivial use of magic, and then about the IRS, and all the ways in which they made life better. Balthazar's answer to that had been a mischievous smirk, and a "you can have first choice of room, Dave"

Taking that for the invitation it was Dave dashed upstairs with the alacrity glee provided. A house in Greenwich! Rent free! Trivial use of magic totally rocked! Dave still wasn't sure how his master had swung the house, but this was a mystery he found he could live with. Plausible deniability, if nothing else.

- Hey! Drake, wait up!

He called and sprinted out of the room to catch up. Drake was bouncing down the stairs like he knew where he was going, and Dave had no choice but to follow. It seemed that their house guest was a little high strung this morning, and the younger man really couldn't blame him, considering the circumstances.

Drake stopped at the bottom of the wide staircase, and looked around the mostly empty downstairs hall, admiring the dark wood banisters that ran along the second floor gallery, the skylight, and then the marble inlay floor. Nodding as if the whole met with his grudging approval he made after you gestures to Dave.

Dave shook his head and smiled. He wasn't sure, but he thought the entire haughty demeanour was just there to make him laugh, because Drake Stone could not possibly take himself seriously when he was acting that ridiculous. "_Could he?" _Their eyes met. There was an answering spark of wry humour. _"No. Definitely not."_ Dave firmly clasped down on the impulse to like the man in spite of his better judgment, and turned to the left, leading them through a well lit hallway just off the main entrance.

-The kitchen is this way. We don't even have furniture, so I wouldn't hold my breath for that herbal tea you wanted…

Dave was saying this as they walked through another door, and just for the sake

getting one over on Dave fate had Veronica greet them with the offer of same when they attained the kitchen.

Drake nodded a greeting to the lady extending a steaming cup of flowery scented tea to him and took a sip, all the while smirking at Dave.

Dave shook his head in despair and grumbled about how if there was tea why couldn't there be _coffee_, but that's just what happens when you send Balthazar and Veronica grocery shopping without a list.

- David? (Another cup of tea was thrust at him) Thank you for watching over our guest. How are you feeling?

She asked, turning her attention to Drake.

- Much better. Thank you my lady.

Snarky though the man might normally be, Dave couldn't help but notice that he was unfailingly polite to the point of gallantry to Veronica.

- How was the shopping?

Asked Dave, noticing the multitude of brown paper bags waiting to be unpacked around the kitchen.

- Very interesting. The world is… strange to me now. I am glad to have you and Becky and Balthazar here to help me… adjust.

Veronica smiled but her gaze unfocused and drifted away to some far off memory, it was upsetting, or so Dave thought, based on how her face crumpled in momentary despair.

Drake couldn't understand what he was feeling. Of course being excluded from the merry little circle of the re-adjustment brigade shouldn't have made his heart pang with sadness the way it did. And now Veronica was wrestling with some inner demon, and Dave looked like he had no clue what ever about what to do to help, and there was no one else here…

- My lady Veronica. With such able help I'm sure you'll feel at home here in no time at all! Meanwhile, (he clicked his fingers vaguely behind his back,) Dave? Unpack.

He ordered, pointing at the bags, and then turned back to Veronica; Picking up her hand where it lay despondent on the kitchen counter in both of his, he kissed the air above her knuckles and said

- Is there anything I can do, to make you feel better?

Veronica couldn't help it, she laughed at his antics, and the imperious way he ordered Dave around.

- Come on Casanova, help me with this.

Dave said, also fighting a smile. He kicked Drake in the shin anyway, when he had the gall to complain to her about the trouble with finding good help these days, and Drakes' subsequent dying soliloquy banished the last of the shadows from Veronicas' gaze.

-Thanks.

Dave whispered to him when they were both facing away from the older woman, as they unpacked the last bag.

Drake just looked confused. He opened his mouth to say something, changed his mind, and shook his head instead as if to clear his thoughts.

Turning back around, he asked Veronica where Balthazar was, and she explained that he should be up any minute now.

-Up?

Dave questioned. His own impromptu nap aside, he was under the impression that everyone save Drake had been awake for hours already.

-Oh, Balthazar has discovered the cellar. He was the cause of the tremor that no doubt awakened you just now. Whatever else he is doing down there, we can be sure that the foundation of the house is structurally sound.

This explanation for the mini earthquake of earlier that indeed had woken both of them was met with two questioning looks, prompting Veronica to explain that Balthazar was most likely casting a ward of protection around the house. She had offered to help of course, but Balthazar had refused to even consider the idea. Veronica glared at her tea. _"Emotionally unstable? Maybe. But I can still work magic." _Both Drake and Dave were forced to duck when the tea cup shattered with some force.

-Are you ok?

Dave ventured with some trepidation, peeking out form behind the breakfast bar.

Veronicas shoulders slumped in defeat. Just then, as if to forestall any explanation on her part, Becky walked in to the room carrying another grocery bag.

- Hi guys! I hope you're all hungry. I brought breakfast!

Her cheer was some what incongruous. Dave walked over to her to take the bag she brought and got a kiss on the cheek that he was not expecting at all, making him blush. This having a girlfriend thing was still new.

- Something smells good

Said Balthazar as he walked through the door. Strangely he was covered head to toe in a fine layer of dust, but had a smile on his face none the less. He walked over to where Veronica was sitting on one of the high stools at the breakfast bar, and took her hand in one of his.

- Ah. Just the man I was after.

Drake said, when Balthazar looked set to ignore him entirely in favour of the food that Becky was plating up.

- Run for your life, master!

Dave quipped, and got a light slap up side the head in reward.

Balthazar sighed the sigh of the severely put upon. He wondered for a moment if he could get away with stalling the explanation, took one look at Drakes face and decided not.

- I suppose you want to know what's wrong with you?

(_too easy_, Dave thought, keeping his comments to himself.)

Drake nodded and settled down for an explanation opposite the master sorcerer. Becky placed a plate of the best breakfast food McDonalds' had to offer in front of him and Dave, and then sat down her self. It looked like Balthazar was preparing to launch in to lecture mode.

- Horvath used the parasite spell on you. You're being drained of your magic and your life because he has control of your ring. There are two ways to fix this. The first is simply getting your ring back from Horvath. Once you put it on, the spell will be broken. Trouble is, we're not sure where he might be yet. And you might not live long enough to find out. Every time he casts a spell you get weaker. If he wasn't trying to stay under our radar, you'd probably be dead already.

Balthazar paused to let this sink in, and took a bite of his egg McMuffin. Drake followed suit, but seemed to change his mind at the last second, placing the McFood back on the plate and swallowing convulsively. He took a deep breath, and tried to smirk with assurance.

Balthazar and Veronica had gone over the spell in the _Incantus _several times last night, and it was a little strange that Drake hadn't died when Horvath had first cast it. Veronica seemed to think that this was because Drake was exceptionally strong, but Balthazar had fought him before, and knew for a fact that he wasn't. The _Incantus _for once was not able to provide any better explanation.

- You said two ways. What's the second?

Drake asked, and crossed his fingers under the table for luck.

- You won't enjoy it.

Warned Balthazar, swallowing another bite of food.

- Tell me anyway.

- It's simple. Go hug one of Dave's Tesla coils.

- You what?

Drake uncrossed his fingers. Luck was just not happening today. He looked at Dave, who had a metaphorical light bulb above his head, and proceeded to explain

- Oh. If he get's electrocuted, and if the current is strong enough he wont' have any power for Horvath to draw on!

- Precisely.

Drake blinked slowly, twice, then got up from the table, and walked to the middle of the kitchen. All eyes were on him. _"Great. Centre stage, no where better to completely flip out"_

- Well. Thank you. Both. In summary, my choices are on the one hand (here he looked at Balthazar, who was so good at reading body language that he had no trouble chiming in with

- A slow and horrifying death

Drake nodded with all appearance of good cheer,

- and on the other:

- Near fatal electrocution.

Dave answered.

Drakes composure was hurtling towards snapping point, so he took another breath and tried to slow his racing heart beat. He flashed his audience a blinding smile, and excused himself from the room, promising that the show would resume after a brief intermission.

- Do you think he's lost it?

Becky asked, earning herself a disapproving sidelong glance from her boyfriend.

- Somebody should go check on him.

He said, all the while thinking to himself, _"this is the bad guy here. He'd be trying to kill us if he didn't need our help."_

Everyone at the table was looking at him, and Dave belatedly realised that he had just volunteered.

- Great. Fine. Fine! I'll go. But first, Balthazar, tell me one thing. If he's really one of the bad guys, why are we trying to help? He's not really, is he? I mean, Horvath couldn't have been his master all that long, he was in the urn with you, right?

Balthazar looked down at his plate, wondering how best to explain.

- Everyone deserves a second chance Dave.

He finally ventured,

- Yes, he'd probably not be here if he wasn't dying for our help, but he didn't deserve what Horvath tried to do to him. Tell him… tell him that I might have an idea that could help.

Dave smiled, and whatever Balthazar had actually said, what Dave_ heard _was exactly what he was hoping for. His instinct had been right for once - Drake was ok. Was going to be ok, too, hopefully. He left the kitchen in search of the newest addition to the team. Willing or otherwise.

Drake was sitting on the bottom step of the main staircase when Dave found him, looking at his cell phone.

-You draw the short straw?

He asked.

Dave shrugged and sat down next to him.

- Dave?

- Yes?

- It's not by any chance… Monday, is it?

Dave nodded in confirmation.

- You slept through yesterday. Sorry.

Drake just sighed. He should call his agent, he thought, he didn't have anyone else that might be worried about him dropping off the face of the planet, but he was booked in to do a few shows this week… Then again, what could it matter if he was dead?

- Balthazar has an idea that might help, he says…

Drake perked up a little at the cheer in Dave's tone

- Maybe I should call my agent after all.

Drake stood, and looking back at Dave over his shoulder proceed to say possibly the saddest thing the other man had ever heard from another human being; It may have been the tone, or the look in Drakes eyes, but Dave could almost feel his heart crack straight down the middle.

-It'd be a real shame to die now you know. Everybody loves me.

**Trivia:** paste **Everybody Loves Me{Drake Stone} hothatter2211** in to a youtube search window. It is perfection. XD. My Drake is a little on the depressed side just now, but he'll go back to hiding it better in the next chapter. Incidentally, this fic is turning out to be fairly long. Nothing of the actual plot has even been revealed yet, not really, and it's 12 chapters in. Gah. I just can't do short.

PS: Thank you so much for all your reviews, and I am sorry for making you wait. I will try for speedier updates in future.


End file.
